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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103000">home to you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beach Volleyball Hinata, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post Timeskip, haikyuu manga spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:07:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah.</p><p>He really, really misses Shōyō, but he doesn’t feel the need to reiterate it for the third time that night: Shōyō already knows.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Kenma,” he whispers. “I’ll be home soon.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>home to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a disclaimer: I haven't read the entirety of the Haikyuu!! manga, so please bear with me if the characters are a bit OOC. But I still hope you'll enjoy it! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Separating Kenma and Shōyō are a thousand miles and vast seas. Only their selfies, “good morning/night” messages, and scheduled FaceTime calls keep Kenma’s yearning at bay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been far long since Kenma caressed Shōyō’s cheek with his thumb and peppered his face with butterfly kisses, then hear Shōyō’s bashful giggles. The empty space on their shared bed makes it unbearable for Kenma to sleep soundly. When that happens, back into the game room he goes, streaming until Shōyō scolds him over a text message. His messages usually go like this:</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>&lt; </em><b><em>shōyō:</em></b><em> KENMA WHY ARE YOU ONLINE??? ARE YOU NOT SLEEPING YET?!!??!! </em>&gt;</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course, Kenma has no choice but to call it a night (though it’s already 3AM) and sleep away the remaining hours until his first class. Though, he doesn’t sleep in their bedroom but on the couch in the living room. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been lonesome and bleak without Shōyō around.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That won’t be the case anymore, two days from now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hinata Shōyō will be on the plane back to Japan tomorrow evening; Kenma will be waiting for him beyond the gate barriers. He won’t do anything flashy, though, like carry a huge sign with Shōyō’s name with a teddy bear and flowers. Despite gradually outgrowing his childhood anxiety, Kenma still detests the idea of standing out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Besides, Shōyō loves him in such a way that he’ll recognize Kenma even from a mile away. A whiff of his scent or a glimpse of Kenma’s disheveled bun is all Shōyō needs to come <em>home</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And as soon as the plane lands, Hinata Shōyō will be recognized as the MSBY Black Jackals’s wing spiker. The world will know of his name, feel the fervor of every spike, set, and serve he’ll do, and be <em>awed</em> by them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Shōyō couldn’t come home <em>soon</em> enough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“One more day and I’m going back!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’ve been FaceTiming for the past hour or so: one narrating his beach volleyball experiences and the other, listening. Whereas the morning sunshine engulfs Shōyō’s room, Kenma snuggles deeper into the blankets and only the dim light from the lamp illuminates half of his face. And Kenma’s well aware of the fact that his boyfriend is an epitome of sunshine. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The golden beams just make Shōyō shine <em>brighter</em>. His eyes twinkle with affection; a sheepish grin on his lips; a blush dusting his suntanned face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenma’s heart flutters as he fondly looks at Shōyō through his heavy eyelids. “Mhm,” he softly replies. “I really can’t wait to see you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shōyō rolls onto his belly and rests his chin on a palm. “So do I!” He beams. “But aren’t you going out with Kuroo-<em>san</em> tonight?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I cancelled it last minute,” Kenma mumbles. “He has Yaku-<em>san</em>, anyway.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Definitely an excuse to talk to me,” Shōyō counters, still grinning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It actually is, but Kenma doesn’t admit that. In his defense, Kuroo enjoys Yaku and Yamamoto’s company, when it comes to their nightly shenanigans — no room for the timid Kenma and his light beer. While his friends take their shots, humiliate themselves, and hurl into the toilets, it’s Kenma’s concern to call a taxi and haul their asses back home. The only convenience is that the three all live in the same apartment complex as Kenma refused Kuroo’s “bargain” to live with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By far, one of the wisest decisions Kenma has made. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think they’ll be fine?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess so,” he responds, clearly indifferent to whether or not they’d perish because of their own stupidity. “They know I’m not there, so I think they won’t drink too much.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shōyō hums. “Alright.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most of their calls go like this: After a few conversations here and there — whether it’s Kenma reviewing a game he’s played, or Shōyō losing his wallet at the beach and getting a laugh out of it — the two fall silent and fondly gaze at each other through the screen. Shōyō would make silly faces here and there to hear Kenma’s giggle — even say his name for no reason at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I really miss you, Shōyō.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiles. “I miss you, too, Kenma.” Then, Shōyō brings his phone closer until his eyes and nose hover above his phone’s camera. “Don’t you want to dye your hair, Kenma?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenma instinctively raises a hand to smooth his messy hair. Since high school, he let his hair be with the occasion of getting a trim to cut the dry ends. Come to think of it, it’s been years since Kenma bought a box of hair dye because he never bothered to bleach his hair once his roots began to grow out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He subtly views his disheveled appearance through the small screen on his phone. “Haven’t thought of it. Do you think it’d look decent if I dyed my hair again?” Kenma inquires. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure!” Shōyō happily replies. “Though, I was thinking a different color? Maybe green? Blue?” He rubs his nape, embarrassed. “I’m not really good when it comes to hair choices,” he confesses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kenma only hums and pinches the dyed ends of his hair. Those times seem so long ago: When Yamomoto disproved of Kenma’s raven black hair and compared his hair to a <em>sadako</em>. Dyeing it was an impulsive decision that proved Kenma of his lack of confidence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Years later and many ventures tackled, Kozume Kenma is still who he was — only more <em>confident</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He considers dyeing his hair again, only a different color this time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Blue seems like a decent color…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Shōyō tells him, “<em>I</em> think that you’re handsome, in general. That should count above all else because I’m your boyfriend!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hinata Shōyō has a way with words more than he realizes — whether it’s his reflections about his beach volleyball journey or simple compliments on how Kenma’s dressed that day. They’re earnest as they come from Shōyō’s big heart, so Kenma doesn’t even <em>think </em>about doubting it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Ah</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He really, <em>really </em>misses Shōyō, but he doesn’t feel the need to reiterate it for the third time that night: Shōyō already knows. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry, Kenma,” he whispers. “I’ll be home soon.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Check out my<a href="https://twitter.com/inarisake">Twitter</a> and chat with me! Thanks for reading! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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